but you’ve allowed us to be outflanked, and now there’s nothing between the terrorists and the school.”
Isaac’s character took off running toward the fire, zigging and zagging down a narrow alleyway.
“You could go over the bridge and circle back,” I said, a tactic I knew about thanks to The Price of Dawn.
Augustus sighed. “Sadly, the bridge is already under insurgent control due to questionable strategizing by my bereft cohort.”
“Me?” Isaac said, his voice breathy. “Me?! You’re the one who suggested we hole up in the freaking power station.”
Gus turned away from the screen for a second and flashed his crooked smile at Isaac.
“I knew you could talk, buddy,” he said. “Now let’s go save some fictional schoolchildren.”
Together, they ran down the alleyway, firing and hiding at the right moments,
until they reached this one-story, single-room schoolhouse.
They crouched behind a wall across the street and picked off the enemy one by one.
“Why do they want to get into the school?” I asked. “They want the kids as hostages,” Augustus answered.
His shoulders rounded over his controller, slamming buttons, his forearms taut, veins visible.
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